


Universe Gone Mad

by taikodragon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Blade of Marmora Kuro, Blink and you miss it S8 fixit, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:24:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taikodragon/pseuds/taikodragon
Summary: Finally, he asks, "Why are you laughing?"One looks at him, cocks their head to the side and almost looks kind, and pitying, when they respond, "There is no more Voltron."Shock drenches him in ice and he then says, "I am Takashi Shirogane. Voltron can't be gone."The less kind members of the room laugh again, and he frowns, "What?"Someone brings a handheld holo screen and a video starts to play. "You can't be Takashi Shirogane. He's a hero of the Universe, Admiral of the Atlas."





	Universe Gone Mad

**Author's Note:**

> New milestone for me, this fic. It just would not let go. And here I am about 9400 words later. Which is also another milestone, as in it is the most I've ever written in a single fic in any of my fandoms.
> 
> I hope you enjoy my Kuro. And shout out to [roromir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roromir/pseuds/roromir) for doing a quick beta for me. All spelling issues, grammar mistakes and tense shifts are my own.
> 
> Please go see the piece I commissioned from [Iwonn Arts here.](https://twitter.com/iwonn_arts/status/1126165981372538880)
> 
> Here's also a playlist of music I listened to on repeat while working on this fic: [On Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/35MQvgwnkXTJWzjXSLPoj3)

He wakes, sitting straight up, heart pounding, frantic. He doesn't know where he is and the last thing he remembers is fighting Zarkon and sitting in the cockpit of the Black Lion. He immediately knows that he needs to get back to Voltron, to the Castle of Lions. To Keith. 

There is a handful of alien faces around the cot he is sitting on and he speaks, hoping beyond hope that they will understand him, "I am Takashi Shirogane and I need to get back to Voltron."

The colorful array of faces all look at each other, before a laugh starts in one throat and flows to the rest of the group.

"Please, I need to find Voltron and the Paladins. Will you help me find them?" A new wave of laughter breaks out and a couple are shaking their heads, painfully reminding him of another conversation in the past, inky black hair and a smirk flashing across his mind's eye. 

Finally, he asks, "Why are you laughing?"

One looks at him, cocks their head to the side and almost looks kind, and pitying, when they respond, "There is no more Voltron."

Shock drenches him in ice and he then says, "I am Takashi Shirogane. Voltron can't be gone."

The less kind members of the room laugh again, and he frowns, "What?"

Someone brings a handheld holo screen and a video starts to play. "You can't be Takashi Shirogane. He's a hero of the Universe, Admiral of the Atlas."

“The what?” He hears his voice speak from his face with hair he doesn't have, and a uniform he's never seen before and it suddenly feels like he's in very wrong, very cruel nightmare.

Allura, Coran, the rest of the paladins, are there. Keith is there, handsome as ever, taller, standing proud and to the side of him, a smile threatening to break the line of his lips. And the man who believes he's Takashi Shirogane feels an ache grip and close its hand tight around his chest.

The room around him goes black.

\-----

A few quintants later he awakes, there's food on the small table next to him and the holo screen sits blank nearby.

He eats, relieves himself, and after drinking something that looks like water, clear and cold, he picks up the small screen and searches through the recorded history of Voltron's more recent legendary feats.

Reported by multiple sources are the coalition, Lotor, the clone infiltration after he died, and then his resurrection. The universe and the multitude of realities saved but the Lions lost in the exchange, and to top it all off, the latest news is the engagement of one Takashi Shirogane to one Keith Kogane, paladins and heroes both.

Realization sinks in, a knife to his heart. He cannot go home now. What use is there for a copy when the real hero is there and has saved the universe multiple times over? What sort of reception would he, a leftover remnant of a discarded project, expect to receive if he goes home now?

So he starts his new life picking up the shattered pieces of what once used to be his proverbial heart. He asks the crew to call him Kuro, Kuron being too on the nose for what he is. Taka Kurogane. He figures that it's appropriate, one light, one dark. He likes the symmetry of it.

He then joins the crew of the merchant vessel Bladztree and earns his keep, and eventually finds himself in charge of his own ship a year or so later, crossing the vastness of the universe and delivering goods.

He watches the wedding. He cries himself to sleep that night, hands gripping the edge of his bunk, noise muffled against his meager pillow. He finds himself yearning for more than this life he's cobbled together from the pieces of who he was before. 

The coalition has remained strong, with the Atlas and the Blades of Marmora working closely together on a unending mission to help those who are struggling in the aftermath of the fall of the Galran empire. He decides he wants to see if he could join. He's not Galran, but his arm still is, unlike other him.

He lands on New Daibazaal one day, finds himself at one of the government buildings and asks. He is then ushered into a small conference room and he sits, and waits.

A woman enters, lovely purple skin, her face stern, eyes narrowed at him. "You can remove your hood."

He pulls it off and stands, facing her. 

Her eyes widen in shock as she takes in his appearance, the length of hair, and she says, "Shiro?"

He doesn't know this woman but she apparently knows him. His memory is jogged when he remembers why she looks familiar. Keith's mom. She was at the wedding. Kruloa? Krulia?

"Not Shiro. As much as I am he, I don't go by that name. It's not mine to have, actually." He finishes ruefully.

Her shock dampens as she studies him further, eyes obviously cataloguing the similarities and differences. "What do you wish to be called then?"

"Kuro, please. Short for Taka Kurogane."

Her eyebrow raises at this, an amused smirk painfully reminiscent of Keith, and he shrugs, "Close enough to be easy to remember." 

"And what do you remember?" She asks.

"I don't remember meeting you. Last thing was- was the battle with Zarkon." He makes a face, hands gesturing helplessly, "Where apparently I died. Or rather, he died?"

Her face softens a little, "When did you wake up?"

He turns his face away, emotions threatening to fall from his eyes, "A month after they returned from the last battle."

"Three years. What have you been doing? And why didn't you go home to Earth?"

He looks back at her, "A merchant ship picked up my pod out somewhere near New Olkarion and activated me." He pauses, swallowing thickly, "Why return to Earth when there is no need for me. The original is there. The hero. Shiro Prime."

He laughs a little at this last, Krolia(?) watching him warily. "Sorry, animated show I used to watch when I was a ki-"

He stops. Adjusts his thinking as he has continued to do the last few years and corrects himself, "It was from a show he watched when he was a kid."

She sighs then, face gentle again and says, "What is it I can do for you, Taka Kurogane?"

He gives her a small smile, "I want a purpose. And if I am not the leader of Voltron nor the Admiral of the Atlas, then I would like to find something. I was hoping there was a spot open in the Blades?"

The mother of the man he still loves, even as a clone, watches him steadily. The longer she looks at him, the more nervous he gets and he adds, "That is, if non-Galrans are accepted?"

She sighs again, touches a small device at her wrist, "Kolivan, please come to conference room B."

"On my way." Comes the gruff voice from the comm unit.

She looks up at him, a small quirk of her lips giving nothing away.

He remembers meeting Kolivan at the original Blade headquarters. Well, Shiro meeting him. The massive giant of a man walks through the doorway and stops next to Kralio (?), his eyebrows raising in surprise. "Krolia," he says (That was it!), "Why is your son's husband here and looking like a merchant pilot?"

She looks up fondly at the man, and Kuro is not sure why she seems so easy now in front of him. "This isn't Shiro."

Kolivan's eyes narrow, looking dangerous, "A clone? Again?"

Kuro lifts both his hands up, palms facing them, "Uh, again and not? I'm like version 3.0."

Krolia stifles a laugh, "He wishes to join the Blades."

"Uh, the part that still does missions. I would rather not run into, uh, well, myself. And. . .Keith."

Krolia gives him a small sympathetic smile, "We'll have to check your arm. Make sure it isn't connected still just as a precaution."

He nods. "Of course."

"A blade will not respond to you," Kolivan says then.

Kuro grimaces, "Sure. I remember."

"But we have some blades from Earth that you might be able to use." He glances at Krolia then. 

She nods.

"Come then, we'll get you settled."

Two years later, he is standing on an overlook above the landing zone of a small Galran warlord still trying to continue in Zarkon's footsteps, full Blade uniform, mask in place, an Earth katana on his back and his Galran arm itching to burn.

He hears the footsteps before the voices and he freezes. How. . .

"Blade!"

He turns his head slightly to the two men behind him, one in a full senior blade uniform, the other in the black and white. How they were here, in his position, he has no idea why and will have to speak with Krolia about that when this mission is over. 

"Commander. Admiral." He acknowledges with a nod, before turning his head back forward to keep an eye below. His part of the mission is catching any stragglers who run.

"Any movement yet?" Keith's voice comes from behind him, near to where he's now crouched down and he might have jerked at how close he is, but it was so infinitesimal as to go unnoticed. Thankfully. 

"No, sir. None at the moment,” he responds.

"Keith?" Hearing his own voice from someone else will never not be weird.

The sound of feet against the rock as Keith moves back towards Shiro, "We're holding currently."

"Understood."

There's a sound of a hand on fabric and inwardly he cringes. He imagines that it's his hand resting on Keith's shoulder, or small of the back before his focus snaps back and he spots movement below. 

Leaping into action, he faintly hears Keith's voice as he activates his arm and pulls the blue tang katana free with his left hand, "That hand. . .and isn't that the sword you gav-"

And the conversation is lost as he gets out of ear shot, blood thrumming in his veins.

Faintly, he wonders if this was just a fluke.

\-----

It keeps happening. 

Second time, Keith asks his name, which he supplies. Asks about the sword, about taking his mask off.

"I would prefer not," he replies. "And Krolia gave this sword to me when I passed the trials to join the Blades.”

He sees the frown cross Keith's face and Shiro's looks suspiciously at him.

"Your arm. . ." Shiro starts to ask.

He interrupts with, "I have had it as long as I can remember."

Which is true. Any memories before his awakening do not belong to him, but to the white-haired Admiral standing next to Keith with their matching gold rings.

He is saved by seeing the signal to move.

\-----

The third meeting has him on edge. He happens to pass by where Keith and Shiro are speaking with Krolia.

"He's dangerous. You remember what happened before." That’s Keith, worry coloring his voice.

He can hear consternation in Krolia's response, "We were well aware of the dangers and took care of them. He is his own person now. You should accept that."

The last exchange he overhears is: "You gave him the sword Shiro gifted you and Kolivan when you were bonded."

"Yes, we did."

And he is out of hearing now, and moving quickly to catch transport back to New Daibazaal for a day's rest and on to his next mission. 

\-----

The fourth time it happens he decides to speak with Krolia about it.

Her face is calm and gentle as he makes his request, "Please, Krolia, how is it that they keep showing up at my missions?"

Her smirk before she responds is suspicious, "You are a valuable asset, Kuro. We are going to utilize you on the operations that need it the most. It just happens that it also requires one of our Commanders and his Admiral husband."

He frowns, unhappy. Each moment he ends up near them he feels is another moment he could be working on getting over the ache in his heart.

"And the sword?"

"Kuro, it was a gift."

He narrows his eyes, "Apparently one that you regifted from Shi- the Admiral."

Her smirk gets more mischievous, "Hm, well it was mine to give."

He opens his mouth to say something but the step of a familiar heel and his voice speaks from behind him, "Krolia, sorry to interrupt."

She smiles warmly at her son in law, eyes as soft. Soft as when she looks at him. He has him to thank then, for his smooth entrance to the Blades (Smooth, ha.) and the favorable treatment.

"Of course, Shiro, what can we help you with?"

Kuro stands still, head turned to watch Shiro's approach, meeting eyes the same color down to the flecks of brown in the gray. Though he appears curious and a little shocky, or so Kuro imagines.

He finds himself wondering what Shiro sees. The Blade uniform, sword across his back, long hair he's started to braid and wrap along his collar in the Marmoran way, and the old hand gifted from when Shiro was Champion.

Prime (he still giggles a little maniacally when he thinks of Shiro this way) stands slightly broader across the shoulders, showing how the couple of years he's been alive more than Kuro have affected him. It stops his train of thought for a moment and he has a sudden realization that Shiro is older than he now. He feels a whisper in his gut tickle along the inside and up his chest. Surreal, but he supposes that he's always known instinctually that he's an attractive human being. Seeing the you outside oneself has a different effect on a person.

He gives a nod in greeting. Shiro nods back.

He looks at Krolia then, and asks with as much pain as he feels safe revealing, "Please reconsider."

Her eyes get even softer and says, "I'll think about it. You still have to live in this world. Remember you chose this, knowing full well you'd probably run into elements you were trying to avoid."

He frowns in response, then inclines his head and asks, "May I be excused, madam?"

She matches his nod and he turns, meets Shiro's soulful eyes again, nods again as he says, "Admiral" before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.

He hears, "Thank you for taking him in-" from his voice before he exits the doorway and nearly sprints down the hallway.

He wishes he could run farther than his quarters, like he did at the beginning. But he's committed and knows staying is the best option. He can’t run from everything. 

And so he continues on. Resting and training endlessly on days between missions, grateful to be alive, even if he feels like he doesn't truly belong anywhere.

In the quiet of his bunk, Kuro wonders if he has eyes like Shiro, full of heart and soul. He wonders if he even has a soul, if those exist, or if he's a shell of Shiro, living and alive, just making his way through missions with no end goal in place. Those nights hurt the most. He holds back his tears, squeezing his hands around the muscles of his biceps, gripping so hard he gives himself bruises.

Tomorrow will be another day and he'll get up and do it again, nightmare or not.

He always moves forward. There’s no other choice that he would satisfy him.

\-----

Another mission, another meeting, another moment he's glad to have a mask to keep over his face. This time, though, he burns. The realization that he is attracted to a person who is effectively himself, has awakened something inside him. He feels himself yearning now, not just for the black-haired Blade Commander, but for the white-haired Admiral.

He tries to deny it. Tries not to think about it. Or the implication of what it means.

It's the first time he's felt anything like desire since he woke up on that merchant ship and he's not exactly sure what to do with it. He's in the communal showers when it finally comes to a head and he's suddenly hot, flesh buzzing, his cock awakening and tentatively he grips it in his wet palm. Using the knowledge borrowed from his memories, he strokes himself to the tip then down in a gentle yet firm pull and he gasps, the intensity curling his toes, hunching his torso. Pale skin, silver-gray hair creep into his brief fantasy, alongside of a dark head of hair whose mouth is taking him in. He languidly strokes his length, enjoying the trickling waves of pleasure lapping at his mind before remembering where he is and working towards release. It's quicker than he wants it to be, but it's hopefully enough. He gasps as quiet as he can when the orgasm flashes through his body.

He's soon grateful for not losing his sense of time and awareness because he hears footsteps entering the shower and he shakes his arms out, rinsing the evidence away from him. However, it's Shiro who walks in and Kuro can't help but roll his eyes at the universe and its strange choices concerning timing.

He turns back to rinsing himself off when Shiro comes up to the shower nearest his. “You have all the same scars I did then.” A moment’s pause, “And some I don’t recognize.”

Kuro focuses on turning off the water before looking at the man whose DNA he shares right down to the atom-level, quirking one dark eyebrow. “And some I don’t recognize on you either. We could probably fool everyone by switching roles for a day, except you went prematurely gray.”

Shiro smirks, “It was the stress.”

They then grin at each other and laugh.

“Admiral.” Kuro nods as he grabs his towel and makes his way to where he had stored his clothing.

“Shiro, please.” He hears as he starts to dress. Looking back, he meets the nod and gentle gaze of the person he was made to imitate.

“Shiro.” He nods again as the man turns under the water.

He feels the need to run.

\-----

He doesn’t see them for a couple of months and he’s grateful for the reprieve. He still has that awareness he didn’t before and he’s not sure he likes it. Fortunately, with them not around or even reportedly near him while on mission, he’s able to focus.

It’s on yet another mission that they show up again and he curses under his breath. He’s again waiting for a signal to begin the infiltration. Yet another warlord with a small base and a few hundred members of yet another army wishing that things hadn’t changed.

“We’ll be coming with you this time, so try not to outrun me, Shiro.”

He still crouched in position, thinking he heard wrong. Shiro is there with them, so nothing unusual about that. He’s trying to focus, to keep out the undeniable feelings towards not just Keith, but now, for all intents and purposes, his twin. He’s not sure what to do with that.

“Are you even listening to me?” Kuro gets a poke in the shoulder. He turns his masked face to stare at Keith and says nothing. Shiro shifts a little behind them and Keith looks back at him, cheeks starting to turn pink when he realizes what he’s said, then at Kuro before shrugging nonchalantly, “Sorry.”

Kuro gives Shiro a nod and turns back to face forward. He gets another poke in the shoulder, and he looks down at Keith’s gloved hand, before meeting violet eyes behind the protective clear screen of his helmet. “Did you hear me?”

Kuro nods again, “Yes.”

He catches Keith’s frown at his one word answer before turning forward again.

The signal flares and he’s up, saying for their benefit: “Let’s go.”

They are into the base without much resistance as the bulk of the action is on the other side near the docks. They slip in quietly and trot with purpose towards the control room to gather the information stored there on other possible warlords and their whereabouts. They round a corner where a small contingent of sentries remain on guard. Unexpected but not unmanageable, he grabs the sword with his left hand, activates his other and immediately makes himself into the largest target, yelling over his shoulder, “Get the data, I’ll take care of these guys,” as he uses both arms in tandem, one coming down in a graceful arc of bright purple-magenta light, the other one throwing the sword at a sentry aiming for the two men behind him.

He feels a presence come up on his right side and he readies to swing his arm down before he recognizes in the haze of fighting that Shiro is there with him, Altean arm slamming into a sentry. Pivoting, he cuts through another sentry and they are standing in the hallway facing each other at the end, the crackling of electricity filling the quiet. Kuro drops his mask, “I had it.”

Shiro grins at him, “I know. Couldn’t let you have all the fun though.”

Kuro grins at him in return and that’s how Keith finds them, looking between them before a small smile graces his lips, “We’ve got the data. Let’s get back to the ship.”

The return to ship is without issue, and Kuro breathes a sigh of relief. As they part ways, Shiro claps him on the shoulder, and smiles, “Have you considered coming home to Earth?”

Kuro stares at the man and wishes his mask were in place. He can’t go home. He can never go home.

“There is much to do out here,” he starts, then thinks fuck it and activates his mask and turns, pulling his shoulder out from under Shiro’s warm hand with the simple motion. “I am not needed there when they have you.”

He walks away then without another word.

\-----

He throws himself into more missions, taking any he can at the far reaches of the known universe. He gets injured once or twice and Krolia frowns at him the next time they are together in one of the many Marmoran control rooms, “You need some rest, Kuro.”

He is without his mask and he looks away, “Rest is for the dead.”

She sighs, gives him his next assignment. And he goes.

\-----

There are some days that he feels he must pay for the sins of who created him. Of the Kuron who nearly killed Keith, and who nearly destroyed the Castle of Lions. What he is weighs heavy on him and often he feels a little like the Atlas of Greek mythology. But he knows it’s an illusion and that he doesn’t have to correct the wrongs that are still occurring in the universe, in what was once the Galran Empire.

He is not Takashi Shirogane. He is a man created to replace him. To infiltrate, to destroy. He grapples with that truth every day he’s alive, in addition to the new feelings of desire. Not just physical, for Keith, or now, for Shiro, but feelings of belonging. He gets along well enough with the other Blades and has an exemplary record with them, but he’s still Kuro, human, and he still feels like he doesn’t quite fit in. 

But when he wakes, he shakes these thoughts away and reminds himself that he’s not here to fit in, he’s here to complete missions and be apart of something bigger than himself. He’s chosen this route to give his life a purpose, as accidental as it is that he actually exists.

\-----

The next mission he ends up working with them on takes the choice of going back to Earth away from him. He has no regrets when it’s all said and done, and later he’ll be grateful for it, but in the moment when he discovers what had happened, he tries to get out of the bed in the infirmary. ON THE ATLAS. That is currently en route to Earth. But he only manages to collapse to the floor, a nurse running in to help him back in to the bed.

It comes back to him in flashes, like a vid screen playing in his mind. Shiro and Keith end up being at the same mission as he is again, capturing a ship full of pirates with their cargo of unsanctioned arena fodder. Keith had come up to his position, Shiro close behind, when one of the crew drops in on them from above, and he charges at the gun pointed towards them, specifically at Keith. The momentum of his attack carries him and the pirate in to the open hallway where the standoff had been at a lull. He knew that his number was up when a shoulder-held laser cannon aimed at him and he went willingly. 

He lays there in the infirmary bed, healing and far along that path but he feels the truth in his muscles and bones that it would take a while to get him back to mission-ready. He hadn’t counted on being on the Atlas though. To be honest, he hadn’t expected to wake up at all. Looking over, he sees his sword propped against the side of his bed and places his hand on the pommel, curving his palm and fingers around the end, taking comfort that he still had it.

He let his eyes drift shut and he floats. It’s a while later when he’s dozing that he hears a pair of footsteps down the hall and finds himself with visitors, Keith and Shiro, smiling when they see he’s awake.

He feels trapped. He starts to feel like it might not be so wrong to be trapped here.

They arrive at Earth and Kuro is able to move around then. When faced with the prospect of seeing Allura, Coran and the other paladins, years different then when he knew them, he finds that he would much rather infiltrate yet another warlord base, or quell another uprising from hiding former Empire officers. He wishes he had his mask. 

Allura smiles at him, welcomes him with a hug. Coran shakes his hand and remarks, “Why, you are the spitting image of Shiro when we first met him years ago! Longer hair of course.” 

He nods, a small quirk to his lips, winking at Allura, and the assembled welcoming party, “Yes, I’m the younger, less used model: Version 3.0.”

Keith snorts, “Is that why you call Shiro ‘Shiro Prime’?”

Kuro cringes, “Oh god, Krolia told you that?”

Shiro is laughing, a full belly laugh, delight flowing off him in waves. Kuro smiles back at him while Pidge guffaws, Hunk belly laughs, Lance smirks at him in confusion, Allura chuckling behind a hand, and for a moment, he feels like he belongs. Just for a moment, before he remembers himself fully. Before he remembers they are not his to keep.

“I loved that show as a kid.” He places a hand on Kuro’s shoulder then, hand gripping his stomach as his laughter tapers off, “Good one, Kuro.”

Together they have dinner and he tells them about his own adventures since waking up. He listens to some of theirs, happy to have some things first hand versus what he’s read in the literature built around them. It gets late and they start to head off, one by one or in pairs, and he sighs. He needs to take a walk or get outside or something, so he follows a route to the roof that is in his memories and as he sits, he understands why Shiro would come here. Watching the crew below on the tarmac and then the stars in the sky that he remembers then-Shiro longing to be among. The sounds of a quieting Garrison brings him a peace he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt in his short existence. The sun setting in the sky around them only enhances the moment and he breathes deep, adding this memory as his own.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there when Shiro finds him, sitting next to him in the noisy silence around them. Kuro finds himself breaking the quiet almost involuntarily, mouth speaking as if without his permission, “I remember these sunsets.” He pauses, frowning and correcting himself, “Or, rather, I remember your memory of these sunsets. It’s nice to see them first hand finally.”

Shiro hums next to him, acknowledging his words. Kuro continues, “I don’t know if these memories, or feelings, will go away, or if they are embedded so deep in the DNA I have that I can’t, or won’t be able to escape them.”

He hears the shift as Shiro turns to focus on him. He glances over at Shiro, who’s watching him intently. He speaks, picking his words carefully, “Why did you not try to get back to Earth when you were awakened?”

Kuro remembers these emotions as the first that were his own, “I was going to. But then I was laughed at when I told them I was Takashi Shirogane, and that I needed to get back to Voltron.” He turns his face away, watching the fading magentas and the deep purples darkening the sky around them. “What use was a clone when they have you? The original.”

He hears Keith approach and looks over to see him sit next to Shiro, knees touching.

He shrugs, continuing, “Anyway, I was hoping to be far on the opposite side of the universe from you two. There’s only one you and one Keith and. . . nothing for me to come back to. No one waiting for my miraculous return.”

The mood turns somber and Kuro feels the need to leave. He gets up and starts walking towards the door when Keith’s words find him, stopping his momentum, “You may not be Shiro, but you are. You’re just as good of a man as he is. You’ve proven that time and time again.”

He feels the tears build, blurring the edges of his periphery. Over his shoulder he looks back at two people who mean more than they should to a clone like him, “Perhaps,” the tears begin to escape and trickle down his cheek, “But the fact remains that there is no place for me here.”

He closes his eyes then, fists clenched at his sides. How long he stands there he doesn’t know when there’s a whisper of sound, fingers brushing against his jaw, catching the wetness and wiping it away, “There’s always a place for you here, Kuro.”

When he opens his eyes, Keith is looking at him quietly, Shiro close to his shoulder. He wants to believe them. Oh he wants to but he knows better. Knows the scar on the cheek was the fault of the clone who’s body Shiro claimed as his own when all was said and done. Knows that the world does not need two of the same. Knows that it will be more painful to stay never having what had slid under his skin before the battle where he, or Shiro, died. Not for the first time, he wishes he had awakened a blank slate, not knowing who he was, or who he had been created to imitate.

Shiro clears his throat then and says, “Come on, it’s been years since I watched Optimus Prime and the Autobots.”

Keith drops his hand and replies, “Why are you wanting to watch that? Really?”

Kuro watches as his face turns in to something akin to a puppy’s, “Please? Kuro hasn’t seen it for years either. Pretty please?” He has never pouted before and it’s odd to see what his same face looks like in that configuration. Shiro places an arm around Kuro’s shoulders, “Come on, pleeeeeaaaase?”

The warmth of Shiro’s body affects him in ways he still hasn’t fully accepted yet and he’s ready to call it when Keith capitulates, sighing, “Fine. I get to pick the next one then.”

Shiro jostles him then and beams at Keith, “Great!”

They lead him down to their quarters on base and the old live-action movie begins to play and Kuro suddenly feels safer and more at home than he has in a long time, if ever. Before he knows it, he drifts off to sleep surrounded by the things that make up Shiro and Keith’s home on base, warmed by their closeness and the wolf at his feet. He doesn’t dream.

\-----

When he wakes up, he’s uncertain of where he is at first. The vid screen is off, he’s laid out across the couch, a blanket covering him. It’s all dark except for a sliver of warm light angled across the floor and up one wall. He wonders when he fell asleep exactly and who it was that laid the blanket over him. He feels a small smile creep across his lips. 

He's almost drifted back to sleep when he hears a gasp and low groan follow it. He holds his breath, thinking maybe he is mistaken. Then a low susurration and a matching moan whispers through the confined space of the living quarters. He feels his insides clench, his lower body tightening as he realizes what is happening in the bedroom.

He is ultimately correct in the knowledge that he doesn’t belong here. This moment being just another in a long line of proof thrown at him while being here back on Earth. Silently he gets up, the space wolf raising his head from across the room. He quickly locates the personal things he had shed getting comfortable (wrong, so wrong), and he is gone, as if he had never been there. If anyone tries to find him, they won’t. He’s off planet by mid-morning, hitching a ride on a flight heading for New Daibazaal. He stumbles into Krolia’s office, practically begging for a mission.

\-----

It’s the next mission that changes things.

It is supposed to be a quick and easy mission. That’s all this is supposed to be. A simple escort for a representative of the Olkari visiting Krolia and Kolivan as they return them to their new home. That’s all. The ship they are on is not outfitted for battle as it merely functions as a transport. The area they are in is supposed to be carefully monitored for unknown vessels but a small battle cruiser slips past all that and starts shooting at them indiscriminately. He takes charge and gets the Olkari loaded on an escape pod. Safely away, he focuses on the rest of the small crew, getting them in to the other pods. Another blast breaks through the side of their ship and he watches as Zar, a newly minted Blade, hangs on by one hand, trying hard to keep himself from being blown away and out into space. 

He is able to reach the young Galran and pull him back in, yelling at him to get to one of the escape pods as Kuro turns back towards the cockpit and taking control of the shuddering vessel. Turning the ship in to the oncoming path of the cruiser, he pushes the engines to their max speed, intending on ramming it in hopes of helping to get the pods to a safe distance. He knows the consequences of choices like these, just like any Blade, like any Paladin. 

Just before he is set to impact, a MFE fighter swoops by, firing at the enemy ship. The cruiser falters and soon after a solid beam of energy slams through the side, completely stopping the weapons and the ship, but it is too late for Kuro. The controls of his ship are not responding and he is certain that it will crash. Sitting back in his seat, he nods quietly to himself, klaxons blaring, and let his eyes close as the ship looms large in front of him.

The sharp smell of ozone, the touch of fur against his leg, a head under his hand and he finds himself in the med bay of the Atlas once more. He looks over to see Kosmo, gazing at him, opening his jaw in what appears to be a version of a smile, before turning his head to look behind him at the door that swooshes open. Ears prick forward as Keith stumbles in, followed closely by a more sedate Shiro.

He finds himself soon in the embrace of a Commander of the Blades of Marmora, and the Admiral of the IGF-Atlas, arms tight around him. 

Keith speaks first, voice muffled against his chest, “Krolia got the distress signal as we were entering Daibazaal orbit. We came as quick as we could.”

He stares down at Keith’s too close face, unsure of what to do with his own hands. “What?”

Keith looks up at him as Shiro pulls back slightly but not letting go. Kuro feels trapped again. And again, trapped but not necessarily wanting to leave. He decides then that if he needs to get over them, it needs to start with him; he needs to convince them. Pushing off Shiro’s embrace and unwrapping Keith’s arms from his torso, he steps back, giving himself space. “What are you doing here?”

Shiro is reaching out a hand and Kuro raises his own, palm out in hopes of stopping any additional advances. Keith is frowning and Shiro staring at his outstretched arm before replying, “You left.”

His gut is in turmoil as he pushes on, “Yes, and that should have been a clue. I know you’re both smart enough to figure it out.”

But instead of being put off, Shiro instead gazes at him softly, eyes gentle as he says, “Yes. I think you forget that I know you. Nearly as well as I know myself.”

He wants to lash out, to throw something, “You know the me before I woke up to a universe gone mad. You don’t know the me now.”

“We both know you, Kuro,” Keith adds, voice quiet but firm. “You belong with us. You should come home. Be with us.”

The "Be with us" doesn't mean what he wants it to and it never will. He takes a step back, further away from them, “I don’t belong with anyone!” His voice sounds broken, his vocal cords raw and full of gravel, “I AM AN ABOMINATION.”

He sees Keith flinch at the volume of his yell, or the words themselves, Kuro doesn't know and shouldn't care, but he does.

“I am an abomination and should not exist.” His body betrays him, hot tears threatening to flood, grateful he hasn’t had time to remove his hood and mask. “How much of one you might ask?” he says cruelly, “I am an incarnation of a weapon that nearly killed KEITH.”

They’re both staring at him. He can’t read their expressions. Can’t even read his own. “I have the curse of still being YOU.” He throws his hand out towards Shiro. “I cannot return to what I thought my life was because I am NOT YOU. And do you know? Do you remember how you felt even then? For him?”

He needs to make them understand. He needs to push them away.

“I STILL FEEL IT. Every day. And every moment you show up, is another moment I am reminded of WHAT I CANNOT HAVE.” He crouches then, squatting, hands holding his head, continuing quietly, needing to get this out, to get this unending sequence of events done and over with, “Do you want to know the worst of it?”

He almost can’t get the words out, the vice on his throat tightening, “The worst of it. . . is that I want you both.”

He triggers his mask to close away and tosses his hood back, “And that is why you need to stop. You need to stop trying to find me. I’ll make my way in this universe on my own. Far away from you.”

He feels the frustration and anger at himself wilt away and he just feels tired. Just wants to climb in a bunk somewhere, sleep off the near death of the colliding ship, wake up and do another mission. Another mission far from here. He covers his face with his flesh hand and hugs his torso with the other.

There’s movement, the sound of a shoe stepping closer to him. Then another. A hand, gentle and warm, wraps itself around his wrist and tugs it free from his face. He lets it. Aching heart and tired eyes laid bare. Keith is there, pulling the hand towards him now, twining his fingers with his own and Kuro is fascinated by the feeling, focusing on the texture of Keith’s palm.

A warm hand cups the back of his neck as Keith’s free hand cups his jaw. Kuro feels suspended there, the warmth of Shiro’s chest against one shoulder, arm against his back and hand gripping the base of his neck and Keith’s grip on his hand and touch against his cheek. 

Shiro speaks then, gently breaking the silence that follows Kuro’s outburst, “Do you think you’re the only one? If memory serves me right, you and I are fundamentally the same.”

Keith adds, “I meant what I said. You may not be Shiro, but you are. Apparently that means I can’t leave you alone.”

Warm dry lips find his then and at first he freezes in place because Keith is kissing him and Shiro is right there. Keith pulls back and it’s then that he figures out what the hell he’s doing there because Shiro leans in, his own lips finding his. It’s different but good and he’s not sure who’s hand is where now, including his own. 

“Please come home, “ Shiro pleads before tilting Kuro’s head to his, lips caressing the line of his brow. 

The floodgates open and suddenly Kuro feels so overwhelmed by their proximity, their words, them. He buries his head against the crook of Shiro’s neck where they are all kneeling now on the floor, arm reaching around the thick torso to grip at the back of his uniform jacket and the first sob wracks his body violently. The grip Keith has on his one hand tightens and quiet words of comfort flow from him and he feels safe again even as he falls apart in their embrace.

\-----

He wakes, trying to sit up, heart pounding, frantic. He’s weighed down though, two arms thrown over his chest, legs entangling with at least two very different other legs. Sleep fades away and he remembers what happened earlier in vibrant colors and if he wasn’t trapped in a human cage, he might have gotten up to run away again and possibly find his way to the abyss this time.

This is definitely not the outcome he’d envisioned. Not at all. Not aggressively cuddled in the Blade Commander and Admiral’s Atlas quarters, on what appears to be their bed no less. He shifts a little, arm slightly tingly-numb from the weight of Shiro and feeling the pleasant rasp of skin on skin. Huh, they must have taken his blade uniform off. He lifts his head to try and locate his gear and his sword. He spots it and then lets his head fall back to the pillow, trying to focus on how he can get out from under the two men.

“Hey,” croaks Keith, eyes blinking blearily at him, “Don’t go anywhere.”

He snorts, amused and picking his words carefully, “I am currently not planning on it.”

The sleepy glare makes him smile, but then it turns to a frown and he feels his gut twist. Here comes the regret, the whoops-we-made-a-mistake, the casting out. Shiro’s half-awake rumble vibrates against his own chest, “Don’t plan on it later either.”

Ha, well. That’s what he gets from the man with whom he shares part of a life with. “Okay. Not planning on it for the future either.”

Shiro shifts his bulk and lifts his head to peer at him. “Good.”

A leg shifts then, brushing against his dick. He stiffens with the sudden sensation and fails to stop the shudder that skims up his body, leaving his scalp tingly and groin aching. He feels a pair of lips touch the cap of his bare shoulder. A hand to his jaw brings his head around to see Keith looking up at him with languid eyes, “I want to show you much we want you here.”

He gasps, heart pounding, threatening to break free from his ribcage. Keith moves up and covers Kuro’s mouth with his own and it is one of the hottest things he’s experienced in his life. The heat and the slide of Keith’s tongue against his own has his body harden in places little used. He groans into Keith’s mouth, flesh arm curling around his back, metal hand curved around his neck. He lets himself get lost for a moment and then a hand not attached to Keith caresses its way down his bare chest, sliding under the waistband of the undergarment he is wearing. When Shiro’s own prosthetic hand takes ahold of his girth, his hips buck up in to the sensation, another moan letting loose.

Keith moves down his body, lips marking a trail from his neck to his collarbone, pectoral to one curve of an abdominal, pulling down the fabric to release his cock, kissing his hip before replacing Shiro’s hand with his own. Hot breath as Keith breathes for a moment and then he’s engulfed in that moist warmth and he gasps. Shiro’s hand ghosts up his torso before cupping the curve of his neck and capturing the sound with his own lips.

Kuro is all sensation at this point. He may have memories from Shiro’s past experiences, but these are his own now. These are moments he gets to experience firsthand, the rush of adrenaline, the building euphoria, the almost irresistible need to move his hips. He knows he’s supposed to do something more but all he can do is feel and as he moans into Shiro’s mouth, Keith takes all of him down and he feels the back of Keith’s throat and he nearly jackknifes, Shiro’s leg over his and the press of his weight keeping him from lifting his torso. Breaking the kiss, he gasps, “I’m going to. . “

Shiro’s deep husk responds, “Yes.”

The world around him flares bright white as the orgasm hits him, spilling in to Keith’s hot mouth as he swallows him down. Shiro’s thumb is rubbing along his jaw as he comes back down, breathing fast and feeling incandescent. 

“I- wow.” Keith’s grinning up at him. “Okay. That was- yeah.”

“Been a while?” Keith smirks at him.

“Uh, well, I guess technically you could call me a born-again virgin.” Keith’s expression changes into slight confusion and then his mouth drops open in surprise. Shiro starts laughing, falling back on the bed, holding his stomach with one hand, the other flopping over at Kuro, slapping his shoulder.

“HAHAHAHA. I guess- haha- that’s abso-hahahaha, absolutely true.” Kuro is chuckling at Shiro’s reaction, amusement and fondness curling warm in his gut.

Keith just thumps his head down against Kuro’s hip, muttering, “There are two of them now.”

He laughs at Keith’s words, raises up off the bed to lean on his elbows and look down at him, and says, “Considering that you came after me multiple times, I feel confident in saying that you chose this.”

Keith looks up at him, one eye open, “I guess we did.”

Shiro’s laughter subsides and he’s smiling at the both of them, a pleased expression on his face, “We did.”

There’s a moment of quiet, the hum of the ship around them filling the silence and reminding Kuro of where he is, “What time is it anyway? And where?”

“We’re currently sitting in orbit above New Daibazaal with a meeting in -” Shiro squints over at the clock on the wall, “-three quintants. You slept through most of the night.”

“Near death experiences tend to exhaust a person.” Kuro winks at Shiro who grins back at him.

“This is true.”

“Ugh, stop,” Keith groans, moving up to straddle Kuro’s waist. “We should not waste the free time.”

“We shouldn’t.” Shiro agrees.

Kuro swallows nervously.

Keith leans down and their lips meet again, deep and warm. He hears and feels Shiro moving on the bed next to him, then the sound of a cap being flipped. He has no idea what to expect, pretty much just along for the ride at this point. Shiro moves closer to them, pressing a kiss to his lips that makes him shudder, and sharing one hot and possessing with Keith.

Shiro murmurs to Keith, “I’m going to fuck you. On him.”

Kuro feels the vibration of desire thrum through Keith. His cock begins to wake back up in anticipation as they kiss again above him. He drops slowly from his elbows back until he’s flat on the bed again, staring up as the mussed-haired men make out above him. He hears Keith’s gasp and he peers down the length of their bodies to see Shiro’s Altean arm pressing against Keith’s ass. The first moist sucking sound of Shiro’s finger slowly working in and out of Keith makes Kuro’s dick harder and his breath begins to move faster, his heart thumping loudly, the blood roaring through his veins.

“That’s so fucking hot,” he says without meaning to, a groan ending his comment. Shiro grins down at him as Keith’s head drops between his own shoulders, hands braced on Kuro’s chest. 

“Another.” Keith groans, and Shiro must oblige because a burst of air is punched out of him. Kuro reaches up, puts a hand on the back of Keith’s neck to pull him down in to a kiss again. This forces his chest down, leaving his ass in the air to Shiro’s hum of approval. Kuro reaches out to place a hand on Shiro’s thigh, squeezing the muscle before blindly finding the hard thickness of his cock and closing his fingers around it to lazily jerk him.

They’re in this tableau for a few moments, Kuro kissing Keith as his breaths get quicker, Shiro fingering Keith open, when Shiro finally pulls his hand away, Keith whining against his lips. He moves along the bed to position himself behind Keith, hands on his hips, knees on the outside of Kuro’s, pushing them closer together. Pulling Keith back towards him, forcing Keith to bring his torso up a little, Kuro watches as Shiro lines himself up and slowly presses in to him. 

“Yessss,” Keith hisses satisfyingly, as Shiro bottoms out and Kuro is enthralled watching Keith’s face as he watches Kuro while Shiro pulls back out and then thrusts back in. He does this a couple of more times while Keith’s eyes close in bliss, mouth open as a low moan exhales out.

Shiro then pushes Keith down until his dick presses against Kuro’s, hard lengths aligned and Kuro sighs at Keith’s heat against his own. Keeping his arms straight so their hips are as close as they can be, Keith says, “Come on, Shiro.”

The man leans forward meeting Keith’s seeking face turned towards him and pushes a kiss against the corner of his mouth, one hand curved over where the muscle connects his neck to his shoulder. He then pulls back out, and thrusts in again, rocking Keith’s groin against Kuro’s. He does it a couple of times more before sliding into a rhythm that cause both Kuro and Keith to moan in tandem.

Kuro reaches his hands down to grip at Keith’s sides as his hips begin to meet the thrusts Shiro presses into them. “Yes, oh fuck,” says Keith, suspended above him. “I’m - fuck - close.”

“Come, Keith. Come.” He says, meeting Shiro’s eyes, who nods, face flushed and begins to fuck into Keith in hard jerks, the slapping of skin loud in the quiet of the room. Keith makes a guttural squeak of noise, and Kuro feels himself towards the edge again as Keith spurts hotly between them, collapsing his torso down to his. Shiro still thrusting but more erratically and he groans out his orgasm, sliding in and out in slower movements, mouth open before he bends and presses his head down between Keith’s shoulder blades, breathing harshly.

Kuro lays there, unspent still but he doesn’t worry. He lets his hands wander over the two laying on top of him, caressing and brushing hair away from faces. Shiro finally pulls his softening cock out of Keith and lays close to Kuro’s side, joining his hands in touching Keith’s warm, slightly sweaty skin. He lifts his head from Kuro’s chest to lean over and kiss Shiro, a sloppy, lazy meeting of lips and tongue. 

Keith turns to him and kisses him similarly, humming before speaking against Kuro’s lips, “You haven’t come.”

“It’s okay. I already did once.” He’s not going to be selfish. He may feel better about the situation he’s finding himself in but he doesn’t feel like pushing anything, especially if he’s feeling grateful at the display of want and sex he was included in.

“Nope. Come on.” Keith slides off on his other side, his hand gripping Kuro’s length and squeezing. He groans and finds Shiro licking in to his mouth as Keith strokes him before adding his own hand to grip around Keith’s. Kuro’s hips raise off the bed slightly and as Keith bites his shoulder, he feels his own orgasm shake through him, adding to the mess on his stomach and over their combined hands.

Shiro’s voice is gruff as he says, “There you go. Good man.”

Kuro groans, satisfied, and feels like he’s going to melt into the bed underneath. “Yeahhh.”

Keith is warm and relaxed on his other side, hand drifting lazily along his bare stomach, sometimes drawing in the semen with his finger. “Next time I’m fucking you, Kuro.”

His eyes may have closed but he grins in response, “Hell yes. I’m good with that.”

“Awesome,” the man says as he unexpectedly slaps Kuro’s abdominals. 

His eyes pop open then and he glares without irritation, “What was that for?” Shiro is laughing on his other side and without looking away from Keith, he pinches the skin on Shiro’s hip, which causes him to yelp.

Keith snorts, “It’s shower time. We need to check in with Krolia and Kolivan before this meeting. And you,” he points at Kuro, “she especially wants to see. She’s adopted you or something.”

He chuckles and sits up, Shiro getting off the end of the bed and stretching, catching both Keith’s and his gaze at the play of muscle, which only makes the man grin at them, smug.

Clearing his throat, Kuro responds, “Well, I think I had a hand up with that, considering I look like her favorite son-in-law.”

When he looks towards Keith, the man’s eyes are watching him for a moment before coming to stand before him, hands reaching for his face, leaning down to press a chaste kiss, “I think it’s more than that.”

“If you say so.” Keith makes a disgruntled growl deep in his throat at his words, one hand tugging on Kuro’s now messy braid.

Shiro places his hands on each of their shoulders and says, “Shower. Come on. We should be able to fit all of us.”

He stands, “I can wait.”

Shiro shakes his head, “Nope. I want to shower with my partners.” And he pushes the both of them both into the shower stall before climbing in. It’s a tight fit, especially considering the bulk of Shiro and himself, but strangely, it works.

Later, they meet Krolia and Kolivan to have morning meal in the mess hall, Krolia hugging Kuro and saying, “Welcome to the family.”

When he had awakened and discovered the truth of his existence, he had been uncertain of how he was going to move forward. He may be Shiro, or was him at one time, but his experiences after that were his own and while some days the ache was unbearable, he knew he had to keep going. If he hadn’t, he might not have had this ending.

He finds that he cannot regret the journey.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://taikodragon.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/TaikoDragonjkf), [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/taikodragon) and [Dreamwidth](https://taikodragon.dreamwidth.org/).


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